


Where Are You Christmas?

by TheUKAmazingDan



Series: Boy That You Love [7]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Age Play, Anal Sex, Angst, Appendicitis, Begging, Carpet Sex, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Special, Cock Rings, Crying, Daddy Kink, Degradation, Emotional Hurt, Hurt!Dan, M/M, Over-Sensitivity, Phan - Freeform, Physical hurt, Punishments, Separation Anxiety, Smut, Spanking, Watersports, daddy!Phil, dom!Phil, little!Dan, only light watersports I promise, sick!Dan, sub!dan, unfair punishments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:52:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9074737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUKAmazingDan/pseuds/TheUKAmazingDan
Summary: Boy that You Love Christmas Special!
Dan and Phil reunite for Christmas, and Dan suffers a tummy ache that just won't go away.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello good friends! I hope y'all had/are having a happy holiday! I wrote this Christmas special in two days because 'tis the season! So, consider this a gift from me too you! Happy reading!
> 
> \---
> 
> WARNING. EXTREMELY UNEDITED, BUT I'LL FIX ERRORS IN THE MORNING!

It was the 22nd of December, and I had fallen asleep in Phil's bed after a tiring evening, only to wake up with a pounding headache. I groaned, then lifted up a hand to cover my eyes and block out the early morning sunrise filtering in through the blinds. I still felt extremely little, and even though I had gotten off the night before, I still felt the familiar ache in my groin, alerting me to the pulsing problem between my legs. I crossed my ankles, trying to get the feeling to stop, but no matter how much I tried to ignore it, I knew it wasn't going to go down on its own. I also really had to pee, but I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to relax enough to get my erection soft enough to go. 

I rolled over and whimpered into the pillow, then took a moment and weighed my options. One, I could call Phil and ask him if I could get off, or, I could just sit in the tub stark naked in case I wet myself and wait for it to go down in a few hours.

Personally, option one sounded way more appealing, so I begrudgingly wriggled my way out from under the covers and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I stood up briskly and felt my erection hit my stomach with a light slap. I practically waddled to my room, and grabbed my phone from where it sat on the dresser charging. I held the phone up to my ear and waited while it rung. 

"Hey, Baby!" Phil answered happily after the fourth ring. 

My throbbing erection had began to really hurt, and I decided that I had no time for a proper greeting. "Daddy, I need your permission!" I whined frantically into the receiver. 

"Slow down, Love!" He chuckled. "What seems to be the problem?" He asked, sounding genuinely concerned. 

"My parts are achey, Daddy." I whimpered, a blush heating my cheeks even though I was alone. 

"Well, if that's the case," he sighed, "I want you to put on the ring and wait until I get home." 

I let out a gasp. "But Daddy, I have to-" I began, but he cut me off. 

"No excuses, Baby. I'm on the train right now, so I'll be home in a little over an hour. You can hold on till then. Just think, once I'm there, I can get you off as many times as you'd like until the 2nd of January." He stated, then hung up the phone before I could say that I had to pee. 

I threw my phone onto the bed and grabbed a fistful of my hair to tug on. "No!" I whimpered, releasing my hair from my harsh grip, then obediently headed towards Phil's room to get the ring. I was determined to be a good baby. I had to prove to Phil that I was a good boy even while he was away. Besides, it was almost Christmas after all, and I wouldn't let myself act up so that my name would be on the Naughty List. 

Christmas in our home was very serious. We put up a tree, some tinsel, strings of beads and popcorn, as well as the nativity set that Phil's mum had given us when we first moved in together. There were fairy lights glittering from our balcony, and wreaths were hung on every wall. I trailed back through the festive-looking hall to Phil's room to grab the ring, passing a picture of me standing next to a Santa statue from last year. 

I entered Phil's room and made my way to his drawers. I flung the one drawer open and pulled out the vile ring that I hated more than anything else. With a shaky breath, I lowered the ring down and placed it over my erection, the simple action seeming to make my bladder ache even more. "Evil Daddy." I whimpered to myself. 

I slipped a pair of Phil's sweatpants on over my bare lower half and pulled one of his college hoodies over my head. I almost always wore his hoodies and sweatshirts while he was away. They always smelled a bit like him and besides the sleeves were big on me, so I could flip them around and hit things if I was bored. 

Phil had one shirt that I kept hidden from him, deep down in the depths of my sock drawer. It was an ancient Oasis shirt he had gotten from a concert they played in 1997. He had bought it two sizes too big so he could wear it forever, and he had previously worn the shirt so many times before that his cologne was deeply imbedded into the fabric. When I got lonely at night, I would take the shirt from the drawer and hold it to my face to smell before going to sleep. It was my new comfort object, and I honestly didn't spend a day without getting it out, burying my face in it and giving it a good whiff.

I reached into the drawer and pulled out the shirt, then carried it out to the living room. I flopped onto the couch with it, then turned on the television with the remote that was laying on the arm of the sofa. The first show to pop up was The Great British Bake Off, and I decided to leave it on. Paul Hollywood was the hottest silver fox I had ever seen, so really watching this show was not very off-putting to my eyes.

Every so often while I watched, I remembered to reach down a hand into my pants to stroke myself. Phil had told me to keep hard so he could fuck me when he got home, and I wasn't going to be caught going soft. My bladder ached badly, but I knew that maybe if I had brought up that I had to pee sooner, he would have taken pity on me. I regretted my words and played back our conversation in my mind on repeat until I was abruptly interrupted from my thoughts by the sound of the door slamming. 

"Daddy!" I cried, jumping up from the sofa and dashing to the stairs. 

"Baby!" He called as he ran up the steps and tackled me to the floor, his duffel bag falling beside us. 

"I've missed you Daddy." I whined, then began to hurriedly kiss his jaw. 

"Slow down, Baby!" He chuckled, moving his head back. "Are you really that desperate?" 

"Yes, Daddy! Please help me, Daddy!" I begged wantonly, squirming around as my erection started to really pulse again. 

"Goodness, you really are that needy." He smirked, then rolled off of me slightly. He dragged his hand up my leg, past my thighs and cupped my erection through my pants. "So hard for me, aren't you?" He muttered appreciatively, then walked his fingers up to the band of my pants and pulled them down to my thighs. He hummed in the back of his throat, then brought up his hand to lightly squeeze my red and throbbing erection, which elicited a moan from me. 

"Daddy, please." I whimpered, the aching of my full bladder and the throbbing of my hard on making me weak. My thighs trembled as he wrapped his hand around me and gave me a few strokes. "Daddy, I need you." I borderline sobbed as he released me from his grip. 

"Can I fuck you, Doll?" He asked, his eyes glassy and his breathing shallow. "Can Daddy use you for a bit before you come? Will you be Daddy's little fuck toy?" He questioned, leaning ever closer to my face. 

I slowly looked him in the eyes, then let out a pathetic moan and nodded yes. 

He roughly ripped my pants down my legs, then discarded them down the steps. He did the same with my, well technically his hoodie, then turned back to stare at me. "Fuck, Baby, spread your legs." He ordered, and I immediately did as he told me. 

"Please use me, Daddy." I begged, bucking my hips in need. "I'm stretched from last night, Daddy. Please fuck me." 

"How could I say no to such a pretty boy asking so politely?" He smirked, then let his hands roam my body. He pinched at my nipples, stroked my cock, then finally let his fingers travel down to my ass. He pushed lightly into my hole, feeling how it pulsed against his fingers. "So smooth, Baby. Maybe I'll rim that pretty little hole later." He commented. 

"Daddy!" I groaned, as he took his fingers away and pressed them against my mouth. 

"Suck." He ordered, and I automatically unclenched my jaw and took his fingers into my mouth. I let my tongue travel over his fingers, wetting them, all the while keeping my eyes locked with his. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked on his fingers, taking them further in and out of my mouth. "That's good." He stopped me, then removed his hand from my face. He quickly made sure I was stretched with his wet fingers, then used the leftover spit to run over his cock. 

"Daddy, fuck me." I whimpered desperately, which made him groan. 

"Such a horny little slut." He muttered as he lined himself up and slowly pushed in. "So whiney and needy for my cock." He grunted, then slowly began to pull out. I whined softly as he began to set up a pace, throwing my head back when he barely brushed my prostate. 

"Daddy, Daddy please!" I moaned, clawing at his back and wrapping my feet around his waist. The carpet burned deliciously against my back as he continued to thrust into me. He attached his lips to my neck, nipping and sucking, leaving purple bruises. 

"Daddy, please! I wanna cum!" I cried, leaving long pink marks down his back. 

"Beg for it, slut." He growled, then bit down on my ear. 

"Daddy, please let me cum! I've been such a good boy, Daddy! I didn't get off without your permission once! Please, Daddy let me cum! I know I'm your little toy, but I want it so badly, Daddy!" I begged, little out little grunts and groans of pleasure as he pretended to debate his decision. 

He reached down and removed the ring and slipped his hand loosely around my aching erection. "Cum for me." He ordered in a whisper. 

"Fuck!" I whined highly as I came, my release splattering over my stomach and Phil's fist. The long-sated ache in my abdomen could then no longer be ignored. "Daddy, I need to pee!" I yelped, but he continued his thrusts. 

"Then pee." He smirked, leaning up on his elbows and staring me in the eyes. "I'm not stopping until I cum, Baby. Don't worry though, I'll clean up your mess." 

I tried to hold it in, but after a few more seconds of Phil ramming against my sensitive walls, I could no longer control myself. "Daddy!" I gasped as I let go. It felt like I was coming all over again, the pleasure coursing through me at the release and the dismissal of the ache in my stomach. 

Phil groaned, then stilled his motions. He came, hot and heavy for what seemed like forever. "God, Baby." He murmured, letting his eyes meet my glazed ones. "That was so fucking hot." 

"Can we do that again, Daddy?" I panted, looking up at him through my eyelashes. 

"You can bet your sweet ass we can." He replied, gasping as he tried to catch his breath. 

\--- 

"Bear, go get your shoes on. We need to go get some things to stock up for after Christmas." Phil ordered as he passed where I sat on the couch. 

"Daddy, I don't feel good." I whispered in small voice. 

"What's wrong, Love?" He questioned, backtracking and coming to sit beside me on the couch. 

"My tummy hurts." I pouted, sticking out my bottom lip and crossing my arms. 

"I bet it does." He chuckled, reaching over to gently press my lip back into place. "I recall a little boy eating a plate of Christmas cookies after his Daddy told him that he would spoil his lunch if he did." Phil reminded me, stroking my face. 

"But, Daddy -" I began again, but he simply tutted and rose from the couch. 

"Shoes and jacket on in five minutes, Dan." He repeated sternly, then walked away to get his own on. 

I huffed, but got up from my couch crease and trudged to my room. I rustled through my closet to find some appropriate footwear for going out with ice on the sidewalk. I grabbed the first heavy coat I could find, a long black one, and then put on my shoes before scrambling down the hall and to the entry way where Phil was waiting. 

"Aren't the shops closed on Christmas Eve?" I questioned grumpily, stomping over to him. 

"Nope. Now come on. We're going to Tesco." He said cheerily, reaching to grab my hand and giving it a squeeze. I groaned, but couldn't help but smile as he opened the door and led me out of the apartment. We walked, hand in hand down the street to the entrance to the underground. While we walked down the steps, Phil's hand seemed to find its way to my lower back, and reassuringly pushed me forward into the crowds of strangers all rushing to get their Christmas shopping done. 

We only had to wait a few moments before we got on a train, and when we did, Phil got me a seat, then stood directly in front of me, clinging to the handrail when the train began to move. I reached up and grabbed the open tails of his coat, and buried my face into the soft fabric of his sweater. He brought his free hand down to soothingly stroke my hair while the people all around us chattered to one another. A few tears worked their way into my eyes as the pain in my stomach began to grow even more painful. I could hear Phil bend down, then felt his warm breath on my ear. "We can get off soon, Love." He whispered. 

I nodded weakly against him, then looked up at him with large for eyes. "Okay, Daddy." I whimpered back quietly. 

When our stop finally came, my head felt a bit dizzy, but after a few moments of clutching onto Phil as we exited the underground, I felt a bit better. We walked a few blocks to get to the Tesco, and when we finally reached the automatic doors, my nose felt like it was frozen. 

He grabbed a basket and held it in one hand while holding my hand in the other. We walked the aisles of the store, but after going through the bread aisle, my stomach decided to act up again. A sharp pain hit me unexpectedly, and I nearly doubled over. Phil steadied me, but I still clung to his arm desperately. 

"Daddy, I don't feel good." I whimpered. 

"You're going to be okay, Love." He replied, his tone sounding...almost annoyed? He rubbed my back though, and gave my hand another squeeze before continuing on our adventure through Tesco. 

The pain persisted, and as we walked again, I started to cry. I sniffled and wiped my nose and eyes on my sleeve. "Baby, seriously, your stomach cannot hurt that badly." He groaned, stopping and looking down at me. 

"But it does!" I sobbed out. Another sudden burst of pain sent my legs rigid, and the next made them crumble out from underneath me. 

"Daniel, stop being dramatic." He scolded firmly, prying his hand out of my grip. "Come on, get up. Be a big boy." He ordered, his voice still ticked off.

"No." I muttered defiantly through the tears that started streaming down my face. "I wanna go home!" 

"Daniel James Howell, you have three seconds to get up off of the floor." He growled menacingly, but I held my ground. 

"No. I wanna go home!" I repeated, then crossed my arms in a typical tantrum fashion. 

"One." He began, crossing his arms and staring me down. 

I shifted onto my stomach and began to pound my hands and feet into the ground. The pain was excruciating, but maybe it would help me get my point across. "I wanna go home!" 

"Two." 

I simply continued with my fit.

"And three." He finished, then reached down and grabbed my arm. "Up." He ordered angrily, pulling me to my feet and pushing me in the directions of the restrooms. He set the basket down right outside, then pulled me by my arm into the family bathroom, locking the door behind us. "What was that?" He growled, his tone dripping with anger. 

"I told you I want to go home! My tummy doesn't feel good!" I sobbed, pushing myself against the wall furthest from Phil. I tried to make myself look small as I cried, but he only advanced toward me. I sunk down the wall and buried my face in my hands as I continued sobbing. 

Once he reached me, he leaned down and grabbed my wrist, then attempted to pull me up off of the floor. I resisted, bracing my back against the wall and digging my feet into the floor. "Get up." He hissed through his teeth. "Resisting will only make your punishment worse." He threatened, tugging again on my arm.

"I want to go home!" I wailed as my body finally gave out. He easily pulled me up, then dragged me over to the toilet, where he promptly shut the lid then sat down. I continued to sob as he roughly pulled me down across his lap, then swiftly pulled the elastic bands of my track pants and boxers down to my thighs. 

"You have been a bad boy, Daniel James." He snarled, then slapped my ass. Hard. "You know I don't. Like. Bad. Boys." He growled, enunciating each word with a slap. 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Daddy!" I sobbed while he continued. "Daddy, stop! Daddy! Daddy, I'm sorry!" I blubbered, tears streaming down my face as I started to kick and pound my hands against the base of the toilet. 

He stopped spanking me momentarily to lean down so he was beside my ear. "Stop struggling or else you're not sleeping with me tonight." He threatened. 

"I don't wanna sleep with you tonight! I wanna go home and cuddle my toys and not you! I hate you!" I cried, spit running down my chin and tears continually filling my eyes. 

He suddenly stopped, letting his hand rest over the hot flesh of my bum. "Get up." He whispered in a surprisingly soft voice.

"Daddy?" I whimpered back, his sudden change in manor scaring me. 

"I said, get up." He repeated, his tone hurt and angry. He violently pulled my pants and boxers up at the same time, then pushed me up and off of his lap. My body fell awkwardly against the wall, but he stood calmly, not giving my ruined state a second glance. "Wash your hands since you touched the floor, and then come out to the entrance. I'm going to go pay for our things. Don't keep me waiting." He ordered coldly, then unlocked the door and stepped out. 

I turned toward the mirror as soon as he left to observe my appearance. My eyes were wide, red, and tear-filled, and my nose was a light shade of pink from crying. My hair was messed up from where he had grabbed it, and all of my clothing was wrinkled. I smoothed out my shirt and pants with shaky hands, then went to the sink to wash them. I splashed some water on my face to make it look like I hadn't been crying, but that had only made my face look worse. I was done crying, but my breathing was still choppy. I knew I didn't have much time though, so I gently reached and opened the door, then walked out to the front of the store. 

I kept my head down and feet spread apart a few inches subconsciously while I waited for Phil. I got a few odd stairs as I stood there, not meeting anyone's eyes, but overall it wasn't so bad. At least no mean men yelled snarky comments at me.

When Phil finally emerged from the checkout, he was carrying three bags, and had an awful look on his face. "Come on." He snapped sharply, leaving me to follow him as he walked. 

I trailed him like a lost puppy as he led me to the underground. As we entered the platforms though, he didn't wait for me. Instead he pushed through people to get to the other side, deliberately leaving me behind. "Daddy!" I whispered to myself, pushing past the same people to get to where he stood. 

He was stoic as I approached him, his face stony and mean. "Daddy, don't leave me." I whimpered whenever I got to him. 

"You wouldn't care if I did." He replied back cryptically, then began to move to where a train had pulled up. 

I followed after him, and this time, he didn't save me a seat. He plopped down into one, then stared straight ahead leaving me to fend for myself. Luckily, there was a seat directly beside him, and I hurriedly sat down, cringing as my tender ass touched the seat. A little old lady sat down beside me, and I smiled at her, which prompted her to smile back. The train started to pull out, and I hunched forward in my seat. I hung my head submissively, wincing at the continuing pulse of pain in my abdomen. 

About halfway through the ride, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I peeked open one eye, only to see the little old woman staring at me. I sat back in a regular position, then turned towards her. "Are you alright, Dear?" She asked, obviously concerned. 

"Yes, ma'am. I'm fine." I replied, my voice wavering and eyes watering. 

"Do you want a tissue?" She asked kindly, digging around in her purse and pulling out a packet of Kleenex. 

"He's fine." Phil interrupted rudely, leaning over me to look at the woman. 

"Why don't you let him speak for himself?" The old woman fired back, obviously trying to protect me. 

The train began to slow, and Phil grumbled angrily before standing and grabbing my arm. "Come along, Daniel." He growled, dragging me through the doors as soon as they opened. His grip was bruising on my arm, but I didn't say anything to him right away. It was when we were within a block from the apartment that I said something. 

"Daddy, you're hurting me!" I squeaked after it became too much to handle. 

"Oh yeah? Well you hurt me too." He snarled back, looking me in the face as he dropped my arm. 

I was taken by surprise when I saw something I had never seen before: Phil crying. "Daddy, why are you sad?" I asked, genuinely concerned. 

"No reason. Now stop stalling, we're going home." He huffed, furiously rubbing his eyes as he walked away from me. I speed walked to catch him, the walked silently by his side the rest of the way home. 

After he unlocked the door, he kicked his shoes off and took the bags to the kitchen. I followed him into the room, but he simply turned away from me. "It's time for you to go to bed, Dan." He said softly, his voice cracking. "I'll talk to you in the morning."

"Okay." I whimpered, then went to my room. I stripped to my boxers, then crawled under the sheets. I grabbed my stuffed bear and held him close to me as I sniffled myself to sleep. 

It was three in the morning when I woke up again. My breath caught in my throat, then I let out a blood curdling scream. "Daddy!" I yelled, hunching over and clutching my side. 

Worried footsteps approached my room, then Phil flung open the door and flickered on the lights. "Baby, what's wrong?" He questioned, quickly rushing to the side of my bed. His hair was disheveled, his eyes were red behind black rimmed glasses, and he was only wearing a pair of boxers. 

"My t-tummy!" I sobbed out, holding my stomach and screaming in pain. 

Phil visibly blanched. "Your appendix." He whispered to himself, then ran from the room. 

"Daddy?" I cried again, not knowing where he went. 

"I'm here, Love! I'm here!" He replied comfortingly after a few moment, rushing back into the room as he pulled on his jacket. He was dressed now, pajama bottoms on his legs and a pair of slippers on his feet. 

"Daddy!" I sobbed out again.

"We need to go to the A and E, Sweetheart." He explained, trying to make me sit up, but every move I made had me screaming. "Darling, I'm going to set you up." He informed me. I continued to cry as he gripped me under my arms and pulled me into a sitting position. I hadn't seen him come in with it, but he pulled one of his sweatshirts over my head. He scooted my body back towards the headboard, with minimal help from me, then hurried over to my drawers and pulled out a pair of sweatpants. 

He was about to rush back to the bed,  but I suddenly remembered a certain shirt stuffed in my sock drawer. "Daddy! Sock drawer!" I wailed, pointing to the draw. 

He didn't turn to me, but opened the drawer anyway and began to dig through it. "What's in here, Love?" He asked, throwing socks behind him and onto the floor. 

"Shirt!" I gasped out, trying to stop crying. 

"I got it!" He finally cheered, then ran back to the bed and handed it to me. I pressed my face into it and screamed as Phil began to pull the pants up my legs. He grabbed a pair of socks from the floor, then tried to get them on my feet while I sat there kicking and screaming. Once he finally got them on, he straightened up and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Can you walk, Little One?" He asked, reaching down and pressing a hand to my forehead. 

"No!" I bawled into the the shirt. 

"Okay. I'm going to carry you." He said, more to himself than to me. I nodded, then reached out for him to lift me under my arms. He ignored my arms, and went instead for my back and the crook of my knees, then lifted me up wedding style. I whined and cradled the shirt in my arms as he quickly started to head towards the door to my room. 

"It's going to be okay, Love." He whispered into my ear, trying to calm me down. "Nothing too bad can happen on Christmas." 

He ran through the rest of the apartment, only stopping to open multiple doors and exit the building. Whenever we went down steps, my stomach was jiggled painfully, and I let out yelps as my insides felt like they were settling back into place. 

"It's going to be alright." He repeated, looking down at me under the dim light from street lamps outside of the building. Hazy headlights of cars perusing down the street illuminated his glasses as he looked at me sincerely, his expression apologetic. "I'm sorry for being a jerk. I'm sorry for making you hate me." He lamented quietly, his words almost drowned out by the background noise of London. 

I looked up into his eyes, but before I could say anything, he was stepping out from the slight shadow of the building, and hailed a cab to the sidewalk. He opened the door, then pushed me inside before climbing in himself. He closed the door behind him before immediately turning back towards the cabbie. "Saint Bartholomew's, Sir. Hurry if you could." He requested, then turned to me and pulled me down so my head was in his lap. 

"Daddy?" I whisper-sobbed into the stale air of the cab. 

"Yes?" He asked, leaning down to look at me. 

"I don't hate you." I hiccuped, grabbing onto the shirt with one hand and his hand with my other. "I love you." 

\---

Everything was numb. 

That was my first thought when I began to groggily awake from the anesthetic. After Phil had taken me to the A and E, they had immediately taken me and prepped me for surgery. 

The sheets were scratchy underneath my body, and my hands and feet were cold. I shivered under the thin hospital blankets, then jumped a bit when I felt a tight pressure on my hand. "Darling?" Someone whispered close to my ear, waking me completely. 

"Hmm?" I groaned, opening my eyes and attempting to sit up. 

"Don't move, Love." The voice ordered softly.

"Philly?" I questioned, my more adult side taking over as I realized where we were. 

"Yes, it's me." He confirmed, raising a hand up to stroke my face. "Merry Christmas, Baby." He whispered, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to my head. 

"Merry Christmas." I whispered back, tipping my head back and rubbing my nose to his. 

And even though my stomach still hurt like a bloody rip, I knew everything would be fine. After all, just like Phil said, nothing too bad ever happened when it was Christmas.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked this one! I'll see you guys next year for the update coming in January. Until then, stay groovy my dudes! Later!


End file.
